


Not What We Seem

by Crosses_and_Qoutes



Category: Monster High
Genre: M/M, Monster High - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 11:54:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1743791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crosses_and_Qoutes/pseuds/Crosses_and_Qoutes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically, this is Jackson and Valentine's various moments throughout their relationship, nothing big. Mostly Fluff, and some Character insight, but otherwise, just pointless fluff that I wanted to write.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Calling Lestat

Valentine ran a hand through his hair, tossing the accented jacket on to the back of his computer chair carelessly. He’s brain was all tied up in knots, and trying to detangle any of them was a hassle that left his metaphorical fingers aching and red. He collapsed into the king size bed, the satin sheets cold. He had sent the clouds-no, the jazz singers away. He needed time to think and he couldn’t have them in here.  
They were no longer stuck in their cloud state, apparently an unfinished transformation into official ghost mode. But Jackson had changed that. He had made it to where the transformation was completed and they had stepped out as Antony, Gavin, and Leroy, a violin, guitar, and saxophone trio. He had even bought them antique instruments to replace the ones that they lost. Valentine had never seen them so happy, nor so protective of anyone beside the Cramoisi Family. But Jackson was special. Always special. Jackson. Jackson.  
Lately he couldn’t get the half normie out of his head. Those blue eyes. It was like looking into the sky again. The blonde tint in his bangs could easily be the sun, which burned him so now. The little smiles, the accidental touches. They haunted him. Taunted him with their closeness, and just so out of reach. Followed him in dreams. Those long fingers once brushed hands with him, working on a Dead Languages assignment. It had sent electricity like lightening through him. He consumed his thoughts, engulfed his mind. Good lords, he had signed Valentine Jekyll on one of his papers!  
He shook his head.  
Was this Love? Is this what all of those females did when he seduced him? Was Jackson seducing him? He chuckled at that. If he was, the little human didn’t know it. He pondered a moment.  
He had never truly been in love, not really. Of course, he knew how to charm and seduce women. It was effortless at this point, no doubt about that. But with Jackson…he didn’t feel like he had to have the accent, or his rose studded jacket, or hair flipped just so.  
There was even a day, about a month ago, when Jackson had seen him without any of that. Valentine had stayed home that day, a bout of nightmares from the past that refused to leave him alone. He knew that if he stepped foot in that school, he was likely to actually bite someone. So he stayed home. And still hadn’t gotten any sleep, despite staying home all day! Around 3:40ish the bell had gone off, and waiting at the door was a fidgety Jackson. He hadn’t bothered to do anything that day. He had opened the door with tousled hair, a oversized t-shirt and ill fitting sweatpants, and speech slurred worse than a drunken sailor. All in all, a complete wreck.  
Jackson had only smiled sympathetically and led him back to his bedroom, pressing him back into the sheets. When he thought of it now, it sent tremors down his spine that had nothing to do with his fever. And then the impossible happened. Very softly, he had started singing a soft ballad, an old one from 200 and something years ago, about nights and stars, stroking his hair in a calming manner. He was out in minutes, and the nightmares didn’t return at all. He had awoken to an empty chair beside the bed, the hour incredibly late. A small, well loved red book was on his nightstand, inside the ballads that he had sung that night, and something else underneath. A small sketch, ripped out of a drawing pad, of himself, asleep, encased lovingly in his pages. He looked peaceful, his hair fanning around his face, muscles strong but soft looking. There was even a small smile on his face. He looked so…well…is that how Jackson really saw him? So…just…beautiful. He pulled the book of Ballads from the nightstand, where it had stayed since it had been placed there. This little gift was one of his most prized treasures, along with the little sketch he had carefully placed on the inside. But why? He had books more rare than this, older than this. Was it because Jackson had given it to him? He needed to talk to someone. To tell him what the differences were in love and complete and utter infatuation.  
He rolled over and reached for his black and red ICoffin, scrolling through his contacts. Finally he reached his target and pressed the name ‘Maker’. There was a slight click as the phones finally connected from long distance.  
“How may I help you?” a smooth voice asked seductively.  
“Lestat?” Valentine asked wearily. If anyone could tell him, it was Lestat. He had loved Luis. He could tell him the difference. Right?  
“What do you need, luv?”


	2. Gory's Deathday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson fails to notice how good of an artist he is.

Valentine gracefully walked to the back of the library, his shoes practically floating over the tan carpet. Their usual table was empty, surprisingly, but there was a stack of binders and a conspicuously hidden green satchel. He smiled at the silent promise that Jackson would return, even if it was unnecessary. He frowned, thinking of the beloved half-monster.

Jackson had taken quite a lot of scorn to be Valentine’s friend. Clawdeen, Frankie, Clawd, and Draculuara especially had tried to talk him out of it, based on his past reputation and the horrendous events from last Draculaura’s sweet 1600. How he was nothing but a womanizing, heartbreaking, blood sucking scoundrel. But Jackson kept insisting that there was a side that they hadn’t seen, a side that he understood. He didn’t know what that meant exactly, but he had continued to hang out with the vampire. Even after things started getting shaky with Frankie, even when the girls had completely stopped talking to him, he still stayed. Bram and Gory had basically stepped in after that, but that was besides the point. He still believed in the romantic vampire, and he would never know how much that meant to him.

Besides, he had taken any hearts in 4 months.

He sat down at the opposite end of the table, pulling out his own textbooks. He needed to brush up on his zombie before writing a whole paper on it, and Jackson was pretty good at it, spending a lot of his time with Ghoulia, the only one of the main ghouls that kept speaking with him, he had become quite fluent.

His eyes caught something in the pile of Jackson’s. Was that a sketchbook? He didn’t know that Jackson sketched. But with his shyness, he wasn’t surprised. Jackson never did like boasting his talents. Another quality he loved about him. A pause filled the air; he’s eyes straying to the book again.

Just one lil’ peek wouldn’t hurt, right?

He carefully pulled the book out, noting the immaculate appearance and smooth corners. He thumbed through it, expecting quick little doodles. He stopped flipping however, and started from the beginning.

The first sketch was of Frankie, perfectly detailed down to the fabric of her stitches. He felt like he could touch them, the monochrome coloring not lessening her smile in the slightest. He kept turning, pictures of monsters in random little moments. Invisibilly pulling a prank. Meowlody doing some sort of paper, tail curling around her ankles. Clawdeen working on some sort of fabric in fashion club, Clawd on court, an intimate moment between Cleo and Deuce. All perfectly detailed. Every person gorgeous. He turned the page, smile going wider. There was Gory, a big-sister smile on her face, the only sketch where the eyes turned towards him. The purple strips of her hair and eyes making her even more stunning. Bram, the red of his eyes deep and almost alive.

And then him.

A bust of himself, his usual sharp eyes colored a soft purple-pink, a gentle smile gently captured. Had he ever given Jackson that look? He couldn’t remember. Him reading in a high-back chair, legs tossed over the side, talking to Gory, playing chess with Bram. All happy, and smiling, none condescending, it was just….him.

Is this what Jackson saw?

He picked up the next page, not much left in the book now, when he heard a horrified gasp beside him.

Jackson looked terrified. Valentine wasn’t sure how to react to this, so he smiled sheepishly, carefully closing the book. Jackson scrambled to pick up the book, Valentine let him.

“I didn’t know that you drew…” He tried to sound casual, but he couldn’t keep the wonder out of his voice. The smirk on his face grew at the slowly reddening face.

“How much did you see? Which ones did you, oh salts!” he exclaimed, crashing into his chair. He couldn’t keep still, and started wringing his hands, a bad habit that Valentine knew of. He rolled his eyes, and caught the pale hands between his, holding blue eyes with his. Were they always that deep?

“Darlin’ those are amazin’” he paused, letting the compliment soak in. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of them. I’m surprised that your not in Advanced Art.”

“No! No, I’m not, I mean, their just doodles, nothing special…” He muttered, trying to shrug it off. Valentine wouldn’t let him.

“Darlin’ they are fangtastic. Ah can’t tell you how much Gory would love that little bust of her for her Deathday.”

“I’m guessing that Deathday is the equivalent of Birthday? She didn’t tell me that…” he wondered.

“She usually doesn’t like to make a big deal of it, and you’re not changing the subject. I’m serious; she would love you for every little detail on there. Especially on her prized beauty mark.” He managed to get a laugh out of half monster, so that was a start. Jackson looked thoughtful for a moment, eyeing the book.

“Do you really think she’ll like it? I mean, I could redo it, clean it up a little.” Valentine’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

“No, she would love it just the way it is. Of course, we would have to get it framed.”

“Uh, I don’t know about that!” Jackson exclaimed, taking his hands away from the vampires. Valentine felt his undead heart sink a little, but he ignored.

“Seriously, we have to get it framed. Victorian style of course…”

A week later

Gory hugged Jackson in Study howl, her hands clutching a small antique frame with a beautifully done bust of herself in it. She had carefully stored the card, a simple ‘Happy Deathday’, in her bag. She held him tightly, ignoring his stumbled speech.

“It’s just perfect Jackson, thank you so much.” She normally wouldn’t gush like this, but she could tell the attention to detail that he had put in it, the extra time.

“Do you really? Because I could clean it up, or color it, or-“

“No, it’s perfect just the way it is. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Valentine caught his eye and winked. He laughed at the blush on the half monsters face. “Now,” she said, hooking her arm in his, “Why are you not in an AP Art class?”

“Uh, well that is, they’re just…”

Well, maybe Gory could convince him to let his talents shine a little.


	3. Only Exception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine and Jackson's first year anniversary doesn't exactly go as planned. But is there hope for the evening?

Valentine slammed the brush down, nearly cracking the porcelain sink. His eyes were quickly growing to a red color, claws extending through his usually clean cut nails. He knew that he had to calm himself. He would tear his bathroom up again, and he had just has the tiles replaced. Valentine physically pulled his nails away, folding his hands above his head, forcing himself to breath. But his anger was not bating.   
Today had been Jackson and his first year anniversary. He didn’t know about his boofriend, but that was the longest relationship he had ever held before was 2 months. He had been with his little half monster for a full year, and he had wanted to show just how special he was, how important the occasion was. So he had pulled out all of the stops. A moonlight picnic on Twist Back hill, star gazing, everything romantic he could get in without pushing Jackson’s careful boundaries. If there was anything he had learned from their time together, it was that Jackson didn’t need big displays. It was the details that counted. He had even managed to get a hold of an 1800 century fundamentals of science book, knowing that Jackson would adore it.  
He had set all of this up for this specific day, and forgot to check the weather.   
It had rained.  
No, it had poured a bleeding flood down, destroying the picnic, ruining the stars, and soaking the book through.   
But what he was really upset about was the fact that he could tell that Jackson was excited. He had gotten all dressed up in a fangstastic fitted vest, and dress slacks. He had even slicked his bangs out of his eyes and put contacts in so you could see the full blue iris. Goth, he had looked more adorable than ever!  
And now, he was showering in the guest bathroom, vest, slacks, and hair drenched.  
All because he hadn’t had checked the stupid weather!  
He looked down to see that he’s claws had torn through his skin, and carefully detracted them, taking a deep breath. He was not going to let these little annoyances ruin the rest of the evening. They would just spend it at his apartment, and order something in. He pulled up his jeans, latching a studded belt through. So it wasn’t the most romantic thing in the world, but he could improvise. He knew in his mind that Jackson didn’t mind, but it still made Valentine’s blood hot. Jackson deserved that kind of attention and affection, long before he arrived. The littlest of things, kissing him on the check, hugging him in the hallways, still made his checks tint a blushing red. Jackson had even asked if he could hold his hand one time. Why would that even have to be asked?  
He pulled a red thermal over his head, hair still slightly damp. Deep breaths, Valentine. He mentally shook himself and stepped out into the hallway lightly, petting one of his beloved bats. He had taken them with him when he had moved out, and gladly so, as far as his Mother was concerned. And he never regretted having them, even if they did make a mess every now and then.   
The bat, as if startled, fluttered away suddenly. Valentine cocked his head to hear better. Was that the sound of a guitar? He remembered Jackson bringing a guitar case, but he had completely forgotten about it. He lurked down the hallway, almost floating over the cherry wood floors. He peaked his head into the living room, carefully out of sight.  
Jackson had his back turned towards him, but he could see the neck of a guitar pop out from the arm of the couch. All of his bats had hung themselves on various nooks and crannies, all fluttering excitingly.   
“Okay, Okay, but if you don’t think he’ll like it, say something. I don’t want to screw this up. He’s very special to me.” He smiled at that, but stayed hidden. Very rarely did the boy ever do anything out of his comfort zone, so Valentine hid around the corner, intrigued. The strumming became more repetitive, eventually creating a harmony. There was a pause, and he and the bats held their breath.  
“When I was younger I saw  
My daddy cry and curse at the wind  
He broke his own heart   
And I watched   
As he tried to re-assemble it  
And my Momma swore she would never let her  
Self forget  
And that was the day that I promised  
I would never sing of love  
If it does not exist”  
The boy had a wonderful singing voice, but Valentine’s heart was breaking at hearing the words. What was Jackson trying to tell him? That he was incapable of Love? The first time he had said it, nearly 2 weeks ago, was a lie?  
“But Darling,”   
He’s head perked back up again.  
“You are the only exception   
You are the only exception  
You are the only exception  
You are the only exception

Maybe I know somewhere  
Deep in my soul, that Love never lasts  
And we’ve got to find other ways  
To make it alone, or keep a straight face”   
That was what Valentine had been doing all those years. Making it alone, and collecting hearts to gain power, but never really happy. And he had kept a straight face when he had fist discovered his growing serious feelings for the half-monster. If Gory hadn’t had interfered, he was pretty sure that he never would have done anything on his desires.   
“And I’ve always lived like this,  
Keeping a comfortable distance  
And up until now  
I had sworn to myself  
That I’m content   
With Loneliness  
Because none of it was ever worth the risk”  
And that was why he was so smart. The normie had poured himself into different hobbies and talents as a kid, only finding that science was the one constantly moving and changing. That was why he excelled in all of his classes, because learning was the only thing that never left him. That was why he wasn’t so bothered with not having any friends in the beginning of the year. He was simply used to it. Getting into a relationship was scary for him too. He had never allowed anyone to become intimate with him, and he was still wary. He had told the vampire this from the start, but never to this extent.   
Was Valentine really worth that much to Jackson? To tear down years of protection on the chance that this would last?  
“You are the only exception  
You are the only exception  
You are the only exception  
You are the only exception”  
The strumming became louder, and Valentine could feel the finale waiting to explode.  
“I’ve got a tight grip on reality but I can’t  
Let go of what’s in front of me here  
I know your leaving in the morning when you wake up  
Leave me with kind of proof it’s not a dream!”   
This wasn’t a fantasy for either of them. It was hard for Jackson to do this after seeing his own parents fall out, hearing their arguments and shout matches, only for them to stay together because they still ‘loved each other’. Valentine knew that. But he wasn’t going to go away. He would never leave his little half monster. The only thing to remove him from the half monsters side would be a permanent death.  
“You are the only exception  
You are the only exception  
You are the only exception  
You…are…the only exception!  
You are the only exception   
You are the only exception  
You are the only exception  
You are my only exception!  
And I am on my way to believing!  
Oh, I am on my way to believing…”  
Believing in them.  
The strumming stopped, and Valentine could see Jackson’s hands shaking. The half monster was so nervous. No, not nervous. Scared. Scared to sing. Afraid of what the vampire would think. When had he slumped against the wall? And when had he started crying?  
“So, would do you guys think? Will he like it?” there was a pause as he carefully placed the guitar back in its case. So softly, that Valentine nearly didn’t pick it up; he asked “Do you think he’ll understand what I’m trying to say?”  
He rose and practically flew towards the back of the couch. The half-monster has his eyes hidden behind his bangs again, but Valentine couldn’t care. He tugged him into a hug, hiding his tear streaked face into the pulsing neck.  
“Valentine! When did? How much did you hear?” he stuttered, clenching his pale hands tightly against Valentine’s. He said nothing, but jumped over the couch, pulling the half monster down to lay on top of him. He moved his hands to the Jackson’s face, seeing surprise in his face. He chuckled when the oversized sweater sleeves started cleaning his face. It was the old belfry sweater he kept. It looked fangtastic on him. He hugged him closer, Jackson’s hands caught on his face.  
“You are my only exception too.” He kissed him softly on the neck, feeling Jackson’s breath flutter. He felt his accent completely go away, but he didn’t care. He held his boofriend close, more tenderly and lovingly than he thought he was ever able to give.   
“I love you.” A softly worded whisper answered. And he knew the difficulty that came with those words.   
“I love you too.”   
And they stayed that way for a long time, basking in the others soft glow. There was nothing that could have made this night more perfect. Nothing. They didn’t need anything else. He just needed that song, and those words. He swore he would show the half monster how much he loved him. Show that he understood the courage that he had to muster to sing that song.  
“So, happy anniversary?” Jackson softly asked, pulling away to see the vampires face. He laughed at the statement, kissing the half monster tenderly again. The thrill between them was different now. And he loved it.  
“Happy anniversary.”   
The bats fluttered around them, feeling the happiness that their master, and soon to be master, hopefully, brighter than any moon, warmer than any candle.


	4. Destress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finals have hit Monster High, and Jackson is struggling to keep the top spot as most intelligent boy at Monster High. Valentine reminds him that breaks are needed.

He heard it again. The cracking sound of bones popping out of sockets. Normally, he was a very patient vampire, but the little half monster in front of him was about to drive him stark raving mind. He turned to glance at Jackson again, his gaze slowly softening.

The finals were coming up, essays were piling up, projects tumbling out, general chaos for everyone. But for those in the A honor roll, high expectations were set even higher. Ghoulia herself had even canceled the Comic book Club meetings, and that was a big thing. Deuce had pulled out on a few dates because of the need to study. It had pissed Cleo off, but she had no right to complain, as she had been doing the same thing.

But Jackson had it worse.

The boy was number one of the entire class. He had pressure that was unimaginable. And it showed on the stress lines and tense posture. The whole week was slowly wearing on the boy. His glasses were slipped down his nose, shirt was untucked, and he could hear the blood pressure in his blood rising with every new assignment. They had come to his house for some peace and quiet, as the library was packed, but even then, the work was still going by slowly. There was never enough time.

“Darlin?” He asked gently, setting his feathered plum down. Call him old-fashioned, but he still love the feel of a quill in hand. The boy didn’t answer him, steadily working.

“Sweet Heart?” he inquired again. There was the mumbling sound of latin, and Valentine mentally shuddered. The boy spoke it easily, almost effortlessly, probably from looking through all of older science books. And it sounded so good, dripping from his tongue. He mentally shook himself. Focus Valentine.

“Jackson!” He jerked his head up, a look that almost looked like annoyance on his face.

“What?” he almost sounded polite, but there was a slight bite.

“I think that you need a break.” He said softly.

He looked at him ludicrously, like he had grown a second head, or declared that he hated romance novels.

Jackson even started laughing insanely. “Are you kidding me? I have two essays due, three research papers, and four homework assignments due this week! Not only that, but in…4 hours it’s going to be Holt’s turn. Do you know how much time I’m going to lose to him? I don’t have time for a break! ” he cracked his knuckles again, a habit he formed when he was stressed and settled back into the chair, clutching his head against the pounding headache. He only had to finish this paper, and then Clawculus, and if he could squeeze it in before it was Holt’s turn, that Biteology review.

Valentine moved his chair beside his other, sitting a moment. Jackson was clearly ignoring him, but he understood. He was stressed and tired and entirely overworked. And he knew just the thing to cure it.

“Jackson?” He asked. The boy glanced at him, but kept writing.

“Let me see your hand.” Jackson narrowed his eyes, and kept writing. He had to get this stupid paper done, to Hell with it all, but after a long pause, Valentine still hadn’t moved. He harshly placed his pen down, glaring at the vampire.

“Will it make you quite looking at me like that?” he snapped.

His only response was a nod. He huffed, turning in his chair, and giving his hand. Valentine smiled mysteriously.

“The other one.” He requested. His writing hand? Curious now, he gave it over, cradled in the colder smoother hands of his boofriend. Those pink purple eyes gazed at the appendage a moment, but did nothing.

“Val, I don’t have time-“ and the strangest thing happened. Valentine turned the palm towards him and started rubbing down in the middle, delicately tracing over the life line. Oh. Oh, that felt…kinda nice. The fingers stretched out to his own, delicately moving the overworked muscle there. Valentine smirked, noting the smoothing expression over Jackson’s face. It almost looked relaxed. He continued his way up the hand, stroking the knuckles softly. They were red from his nervous habit, the joints swollen. That wouldn’t do. He kneaded softly around them, looking up again. The boy was putty in his hands. Done with that hand, he took the other and did the same, Jackson breathing deeply. His breath hitched once when the vampire pressed his smooth lips over each knuckle, but otherwise, completely compliant. He rubbed circles on the inside of both wrists, pressing a sensitive nerve just…there! Jackson was completely leaned back, a smile on his face. Oh, he preferred this Jackson much more. He stood up, and leaned towards Jackson, trapping him in the chair. He kissed the underside of his jaw, then looking him in the eye. Jackson’s eyes fluttered open, and Valentine stopped himself from straddling the boy right there.

“Darlin?”

“Yes?” he mumbled, clearly still on cloud nine. “I’m goin’ to go make some coffee, and we’re goin’ to take a small break. 15 minutes, tops. It won’t kill your average, and certainly not knock you off the top spot. Okay? ” He said against pale skin. The half monster nodded, slowly rising.

“Just 15 minutes. And Valentine?” he called as the vampire started towards the kitchen.

“Yes sugah?” A blushing face answered him, fiddling with his newly relaxed hands.

“Thank you.” He mumbled embarrassedly. The vampire smiled.

“No problem at all Darlin, None at all.”


	5. Jackson's secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson's hiding something from Valentine, something that could completely change their relationship.

Valentine drummed his fingers thoughtfully, discreetly looking out of the corner of his eye. It was a Monday, so they were meeting up in Study Howl. Jackson could never meet up after school. The half-monster was working, as always, and normally Valentine would be working too. He knew better than to try and distract him with conversation or anything by now. But he couldn’t help but ponder on this little thing that had been stalking him for the past couple of days.   
“May I help you?” Jackson asked. Was that sarcasm? Well, they had been more open lately. Which brought him to the subject at hand.  
“Why do we neva’ go to your place?” He asked, setting his book down. Jackson tensed, looking anywhere but him.   
“What do you mean?” He leaned further into his book, pen going faster, if that was possible. Valentine was annoyed now. Jackson knew that this was a serious conversation, and he was avoiding it! He snatched the pen out of his hand, ignoring the look he was given.  
“Why do we neva’ go to your place? Normally, I would respect your privacy and leave it be, you know that, but this has been biting at me.” Before Jackson could say a word, he continued. If he was going to go down this path, he was atleast going all the way. “Also, you never go out on Mondays or Wednesdays. Nobody holds parties on those days, so I know they aren’t Holt’s. And you get most of your Homework done in school. So what are those days reserved for?” Jackson shuffled in his seat, gingerly closing his book. He could see him trying to find some way to explain whatever it was.   
“Well, it’s, well, sort of a…date night.”   
Valentine’s face hardened. Wow, was that the wrong thing to say. Really, wrong thing. But he couldn’t just tell him.  
“With who?” Valentine knew that he was raising his voice, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He couldn’t control himself right now. “There someone on the side?”   
“Well, yes, sort of, NO! No, Valentine!” He had heard enough. He slammed his book shut, twirling on his heel and storming off. This stab of jealousy, this betrayal. Is this was those other girls felt when he broke their hearts? Jackson grabbed his elbow, catching up with him.   
“It’s not what you think.”   
“And what am I thinking?” he growled, accent lost. Inside he knew that he was being irrational. Jackson wouldn’t cheat on him. It wasn’t in his character. But he was too upset to care right now. Jackson gently grabbed his shoulders, trying to calm him, but he only felt the urge to break out from his grip. Valentine saw Jackson’s face contort with several emotions, flitting across his face like one of his beloved silent movies. Panic was one, thoughtfulness, another. Fear? Was Jackson afraid of him? Or what his secret was? Finally, after a long moment, he dropped his head.   
Surrender.   
“I’ll explain everything. Just…just meet me after school, okay?”   
Jackson didn’t wait for a response, but walked away, a hand coming to wipe his face. Valentine wanted to go wipe the tears away, but he couldn’t not when he was the one that caused him. There was a heaviness on both of them. Of course he was upset that he had made Jackson cry, but he also wanted answers. And he was getting them today. He conjured a dove, and wrote a soft apology. It might soften the blow of whatever was being shown today.   
But Jackson didn’t respond to the texts, or the dove he sent. He didn’t respond to anything for the rest of the day, but he did meet him at his Batvette, like he promised. He looked worried, chewing on his lower lip. They both slipped in, settling into the leather seats.   
“Go straight on St. Michael street.” He said. They continued in the same fashion, Jackson not speaking at all except to give directions. A left on North 7th and South 13th. Keep going straight on Willowmark. It was a lot further than he thought it would be. But eventually, they pulled into a residential neighborhood, with a very curious neighbors. Both Monster and Human children played, none afraid of the other, if a bit wary if a mouth came to close, or a clawed hand strayed too far.  
“This house to the right, the one with the yellow door.” Of course it was a yellow door. It was Jackson’s favorite color. He internally shook his head, pulling into the driveway.  
It was just an ordinary house. Regular red brick, whitewashed windows, lush green garden, and a rope swing on the tree. Jackson must have played on it as a child. Nothing that would stick out. Well, that made sense, since it was Jackson’s house. He didn’t like anything flashy or loud.   
“Here we are.” Jackson muttered, stepping out. Valentine pulled his shades on, following guiltily. He hadn’t wanted to guilt trip Jackson into showing him, or even force him. He just hadn’t expected such a fuss! It was a house. Did Holt keep it a mess? Was there a party room, or secret Laboratory that nobody knew about? He could handle those things.   
It was a nice entrance, even if the bench was a little low, hooks on the wall for jackets and umbrellas. There was a little table, set higher than the bench, with a bowl. This is where Jackson tossed his wallet and keys and stuff. He ought to talk to the boy about that. It was begging for burglars to break in. The walls were a pastel yellow, soft splashes of baby blue pin stripping the walls. It actually looked really good. Most of the time, it just looked tacky.   
He looked back, on one of the hooks. That was a woman’s coat.   
He laid his bag on the bench, ears twitching. There were voices in the other room, but he had ignored them, in favor of looking around the house. It might be the last time he ever got to see it. Valentine followed them to the kitchen, looking in. A checkered themed kitchen stared back, crisp black and white tiles gleaming. It still smelled lightly of bleach.  
“-Just fine, just fine. So, ya finally brought ‘em, huh?” He leaned against the door frame, taking his unnoticed presence to observe her.  
She was a bigger woman, with shined black cowboy boots and red plaid shirt, plain dark jeans. Modest, and clean. She had an open face, almond green eyes, and hair cut fixed in a sideswept bang, just a bit below the ears. If she dropped a few pounds, she would have been quite the catch. But, some liked their women a little chunky, and who was he to complain?   
But she had a motherly way of treating him. But why hide her? Afraid he would be tempted by some hidden sister, or something?  
“Yes Mamn.” Jackson replied, chuckling nervously, completely at ease with her.   
She glanced at him, seeing his person at last. Was she sizing him up?  
“Well, aint you a drink of cool water. Take care of my little J, alright?” she tossed over her shoulder, walking away from the human. She passed through the door way, lightly nudging her shoulder with his own.  
“Break his heart, I’ll break that pretty lil’ face of yers in half.” She threatened under her breath. Before he even had a chance to retaliate, she was out the door.  
No, that was an older sister move. But then….  
“Why was she…?”   
Than what was the big secret? Why had she been here? Jackson said nothing, but walked into another room. Valentine followed, nose twitching slightly. There was something off about the up-coming room. It smelled much different. Almost like…  
Baby powder.  
Jackson was leaning against the doorway, and made a motion with his hands. Be quiet.  
Valentine half hide behind the doorway, getting a better look.  
There was a little boy playing on the carpet, scattered bits of puzzles and toys around him. He’s jean overalls were a little big, the shoulders slipping slightly on the baby blue shirt underneath. His bright blond curls glowed in the artificial light, making a sort of halo. His little head perked up, eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree.  
“Daddy!”  
Blue, just like he’s fathers.  
Jackson smiled, picking up the little boy who had tried so hard to shuffle to him.  
The exact same shade of blue.  
“Hey, kiddo!” He hugged the toddler, tucking him into his hip. “I have someone I want you to meet.” That was a good of a cue as any. Valentine stepped out from the shadows of the door. He expected anything really. If the boy was as shy as Jackson, he could just hide, or run away. But he only seemed curious, not frightened in the slightest.  
“This is Valentine. Can you introduce yourself?”   
The toddler smiled, the dimple on his chin growing deeper with the act. He shimmed down, holding out his hand like a gentlemen.   
“Hi, I’m Yakob. Yakob Yekyll.” And then he scuttled forward and hugged his leg. Valentine awkwardly patted the top of his head, and Ya-Jacob wondered back to his toys, assuaged that his father was home. Jackson collapsed on the couch, Valentine with him.  
He hadn’t been expecting this. He hadn’t been expecting this at all. A baby? Is that what all the big fuss was about? Why would Jackson want to hide him?   
“Jacob.” He stated.  
“Jacob Henry Jekyll.” Jackson replied. He had kept Henry’s name. It was tradition, but he was glad that Jackson had followed it.   
They sat a while, watching Jacob play with his blocks, and eventually, Jackson got down there with him, building little bridges and towers while Valentine processed the information. Jackson was a father. An honest to Sybaris father. With a little baby. No, he wasn’t a baby, he was to old, right? It had been a long time since he had been around children.  
“How old…?”  
“He’ll be two in a couple of months.”  
Two! That was two years, right? Two years Jackson had had a child and not told him. Granted, they had only been dating for about half a year now, but they had been friends much longer. It was before they had started dating. But Jacob must be a big part of Jackson’s life. And they had tried their best to share everything, even if it was difficult.  
“Are you ashamed of him?” he uttered, not thinking.  
“What!” Jackson cried, outraged.   
“Is that why you didn’t tell me about him?” He could be a bit blunt when he wasn’t trying to be romantic.   
“No! That’s not…I could never, never, be ashamed of my precious little JJ.” He rubbed his face, slouching over. Jacob played on, oblivious to they’re conversation.  
“I didn’t know what you would think. Fathering a child at 14, a single father in high school. A mother that had to be paid to keep him alive instead of just aborting him. And then ran off….He doesn’t have the gene, you know. The mother, a fire elemental. She was…so high she couldn’t even light up. We, well, we ended up with twins. The mutation in the genes finally wore off, or burned off, I don’t know for sure. Jacob is fully human, while Hayden, Holt’s half, got the full fire elemental gene. They’re too combustible as children, so he lives with Heath and his parents.”  
“So Monday and Wednesdays…”  
“Holt’s days. Mine being Tuesdays and Thursdays. We work out the weekends, depending on what either of us need to do.” It all made sense. Perfect sense. Of course Jackson would be afraid of that. He had grown up thinking once people found an excuse, any excuse at all, they would dump him and leave.   
“I could never cheat on you.” Jackson whispered. “But I can’t lose you either. I couldn’t handle it. I can’t…”  
Valentine reached out, tugging the boy closer, finally just collapsing on the floor with him.   
“Darlin’, I’m so sorry. I completely overreacted. I know you wouldn’t cheat. I should have known you had a good reason.” They leaned against the other, Valentine hiding his face in his shoulder.   
“I should have trusted you.” He felt Jackson unwind beside him slightly, and they stayed in a sort of half-hug.   
“You know, I don’t think you’re a horrible person just because you fathered early. You told me you had a rough childhood. The fact that you’re raising him all on your own…that’s some major respect, ya dig?” He squeezed tighter, feeling Jackson smile.   
“Besides, not only to you make an adorable father, this was completely normal when I was alive.”  
Jackson chuckled, Valentine with him, both okay now. Valentine had his answers, and Jackson didn’t have to worry about him finding out. Jacob looked up, noticing their position. He also noticed that Daddy was crying. That wasn’t good. He scooted over, holding his arms out.  
“What, you want in the middle?” Jacob nodded his head. Yes he wanted in. Daddy was crying!   
“Well come ‘ere Sweetheart.” The red haired man picked him up, placing him in both of their laps. He liked this man, he smelled nice, and he made Daddy laugh.   
“Love you Daddy.”   
“Love you both.” Jackson said, squeezing them both, kissing Jacob’s curls, and pecking Valentine’s lips.   
Life was amazing.   
Now he just had to tell Gory before Valentine could.


	6. Evening in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was actually meant to go after Chapter 4, but I go confused, so...  
> Finals week is finally over, and Jackson can finally relax. Unless Valentine has a surprise.

Jackson slumped in a chair, relaxing into the worm leather. Finally, Finally, AP testing, Finals, Projects, everything was here. Work after this was going to be easy. And lots of parties. Yes, there were a lot of those at the end of the year. But that’s was Holt’s jurisdiction. He could sleep in his soul room. His mind wandered to his only real comfort in the past couple of weeks. Well, his reason for sanity right now. The patience of a certain vampire, Valentine, had kept him afloat this week. He was so immensely grateful for him, Valentine would never know how much. He wanted them too, and he would figure out how to express it. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, when he could move.  
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He groaned softly. Why? And who would be calling him now? Surely everyone was as tired as he was. He unlocked the screen and immediantly perked up. Valentine! He was always ready to talk to him. He clicked on the green message.  
‘Come upstairs.’  
His brow furrowed. What could Valentine mean by that? In Valentine’s house or his? He begrudgingly got up from his chair and crept up the stairs. Were those rose petals? A trail of rose petals, to his bedroom?  
Valentine knew that he wasn’t ready for anything…like that, right?  
He nudged open the door peaking open. Oh, thank goodness, there wasn’t a naked vampire on his bed! Though, there were some days, well, No, no, he got flustered when Valentine showed up to the beach shirtless. He wouldn’t be able to handle that. But the trial still continued, into his bathroom. Feeling a bit more confident, he opened the door.  
The first thing was a soft steam rising from the antique tub that his father had kept from his old house, filled with warm water. The second was Valentine, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a towel folded over his forearm, the image of a perfect servant. He had removed his jacket and cravat, leaving his pale throat exposed. A gentle smile painted his face.  
It didn’t take a genius to figure out where this was heading.  
He stumbled out from the bathroom, face flushed bright.  
“Valentine! I, no, this isn’t necessary! Trust me, exams are over, you didn’t – I-” When had the vampire moved? Valentine’s hand curled around his, lifting to his lips, looking into his eyes. This vampire would be the death of him, one way or another.  
“Darlin’” He said, looking into his eyes. Jackson knew that he could easily hypnotize him, right here, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t have to. His voice alone could do that just fine.  
“You need a break.” He kissed the middle of his palm. “A moment to…unwind.” He kissed the pale expanse of the inside of his elbow, pulling him closer. An arm wrapped around his waist. “And I can help.” He purred, kissing the clothed shoulder, enjoying the shudder that coursed through his body. Valentine could have asked for his heart on a platter, he would have given it.  
“Get out while I change.” He muttered, pushing Valentine away. The romancer nearly skipped out of the bathroom, a grin on his face.  
As soon as the door closed, Jackson could breathe again. Valentine would be the death of him, one way or another. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. Even considering this! Was he really ready for this? Were they ready for this? He glanced at the water, shaking his head. Of course they’re were rose petals in the water. Added ambiance to the whole scene, right? But it did look inviting. Really, enticing. And would it really be so bad, being, well, pampered? He stripped his sweater vest off. This could go well. He took the rest of his shirt off, tossing the necktie on the counter. He then ripped his pants off and clambered in, before he could change his mind. The thought of Valentine even in here…  
“Ready of not…” a voice sing-songed from behind the door. Valentine entered , smiling discreetly, looking at the flushing face on Jackson, and not just from the water. His poor little half human. He knelt down at the head of the tub, pushing his sleeves higher. He would have gone shirtless, but he wanted to romance Jackson, not give him a heart attack. Jackson was still curled up, trying to hide as much of himself as possible. Valentine smirked, rubbing on Jackson’s shoulders.  
“The point of a bath is to re-lax darlin’. Your more tense than a violin strang.” He said. Jackson undid himself, slipping further into the tub. He showed a bit of his chest, a light definition there that Valentine hadn’t noticed before. Almost like a boy-next door sort of thing. That, was really, really cute. Jackson removed his glasses, rubbing the place between his eyes.  
“I know, I know, I just…no one has ever done anything like this before.” He said.  
“I’d like being ya first.” Valentine replied, hands stilling.  
A pause opened up, Jackson fully turning towards him. There was a question in the air but neither of them were ready to ask. A double edged sword that could pierce or save.  
But which?  
Valentine cut the air, breaking their eyes and going for a cup stashed to the side of the tub.  
“Relax Sugah, Lean back and look at my eyes.” Jackson did so, worried about what he would see. But there was understanding. Forgiveness. Longing, too, but nothing that he couldn’t match himself. They were okay. Valentine smiled at his again, and began.  
He watered down his hair, pulling out a scented bottle of shampoo out. Twilight wood? So that’s why Jackson had started smelling different. He couldn’t say that he minded. He hadn’t done this sort of thing with anyone before either, but he was sure that Jackson knew that. He had never really gotten this attached to anyone, this level of intimacy. Sure, he could play like they would never be apart, but with Jackson, he wanted that to be true.  
But that again, he had never really cared like he did now.  
He smiled tenderly, massaging the shampoo into the two toned hair. Jackson leaned into his touch, smiling softy. He said nothing as he rinsed out the shampoo, kneaded the conditioner in, letting it sit for a while. Jackson had been taking better care of himself, especially his appearance since he had been going out with Valentine, but years of neglect couldn’t be changed in a couple of months. Even though Valentine wouldn’t change anything about him, he appreciated that he was having a positive influence on someone for once.  
He picked up the bar of soap, looking at Jackson. The boy was putty in his hands, and certainly relaxed. In fact, He looked like Valentine could ask anything of him, he would give it.  
He simply wondered how far he could go.  
He leaned forward, soap circling the nape of Jackson’s neck and shoulders. A soft hmmm filled the air, toes curling under the water. He circles became wider, stretching into the shoulder blades. Lower still, rubbing the ribs. Jackson giggled, but did nothing. His hands dipped below the water, to the small of his back.  
Jackson turned and kissed his cheek, lightly taking his hand.  
“I got it from here.” He murmured. He smiled gently at Valentine. No, he was forgiven. He hadn’t gone too far.  
He was allowed to go that far though. That was something he couldn’t have done before. He was also allowed to stay and watch as the sluices of water slid down his back. He shyly looked up at him. Valentine hugged him from behind, ignoring the water that soaked his shirt and vest. Jackson turned, pressing his forehead into the crook of Valentine’s neck. The bath had been over a long time ago, but that’s how they stayed.


	7. A Pernament Expression of a Breakable Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson and Valentine have been together for nearly three years now. And Jackson just wants to show him that he'll never forget the vampire, no matter what.

Jackson rubbed on the band aid again, a swell of pride and anxiety rising with it. He was meeting Valentine at one of his beach houses for Spring break, a quiet place just off of Scarebeach. Why a Vampire would have a beach house, he had no idea, but with it being overcast all the time at Scarebeach, he supposed it sort of made since. Kind of. He turned off on the faded red sign, just like Valentine told him too. The red reminded him of his surprise.   
But would he like it? He didn’t even know if Valentine approved of tattoos, much less liked them. He had never said anything about the yin-yang symbol in-between his shoulder blades, but Holt had gotten that one, illegally, when they were 14. Jackson had grown to love it, though he would never admit it to his loud mouth other half. He had even looked into a full back leather and feather wings, but he had went for this one. And then got it done before he could chicken out. But that was 4 hours ago, and two of them were spent driving up here. Jackson knew that he should take it off by now. And the tattoo artist also said to stay out of sun and the water, to be sure. Well, the sun may not be a problem, but…well, he probably should have planned this better.   
He pulled into the drive, yanking the keys out of the slot. Valentine said he was here, right? At least, that’s what he said when the normie had called. He stepped out, smiling at the soft sand that curled around his flip flops. He loved the beach. He undid the trunk, grabbing a medium sized suitcase.  
The house was nothing special, a modest cottage with an attic, a small balcony that just fit a breakfast table for two. The walls were whitewashed, but the paint wasn’t chipping, and the wood was still good. It had been used well over the past couple of years. He walked along the fence, noticing a small garden of roses. Only one guess who had planted that.  
“Hey, ya made it.” A voice said, hugging him from behind. He leaned into the embrace, face warm. He would know that sound anywhere. “Ah wasn’t sure, with the path not all that clear.” Jackson turned, looking into the vampire’s eyes.  
“Afraid you would have to come get me?” He smirked.  
“Hmm, maybe?” Valentine pecked him lightly on the lips, grabbing the suitcase.   
“If you’ll follow me?” He requested, walking the steps. Jackson got a good look at him. If was rare he got to see the formal vampire in shorts, and the thin t-shirt was loose around his frame. The pink flush on his skin even more prominent, considering that the shirt was a lovely shade of rose itself. The screen door eased close behind him. The kitchen was small, but comfortable, just big enough for one or two.  
“Did you get enough Bags?” he called out.   
“Yes. I even stopped on the way near one of the stores and picked up a few more from the blood bank, just in case.” Valentine answered, coming down the stairs. They both sat down in a couch, the family room on the left of the foyer.   
“Good. They still haven’t completely scarred over.” Valentine looked down guiltily, shame in his eyes. A freak accident in a Mad Science lab had turned the ex-heartbreaker into a human for two days. But after those two days, he had changed back. Well, transformed all over again. Needless to say, Valentine had been hungry. Jackson had offered himself up, forgetting that he would need a lot more than a quick emergency dose. And Valentine had forgotten what Blood lust had felt like after 240 years. He had to push the vampire off, but the fangs had torn. He really shouldn’t have brought it up.  
“Hey, it’s fine. Could have been worse, but it wasn’t. Besides, you’re the one always asking if they’re better yet. They’re close.” Valentine nodded, eyes focused on something.  
“Speaking of wounds, what happened to your finger?” He said, grabbing the hand lightly.   
Jackson pulled back, chuckling nervously.   
“Huh? Oh, that…um, that’s, its nothing. Don’t worry about it.” He just got here! Could he really tell him now? Judging from the look in his eye, he just might have to. The vampire had turned towards him, leaning on the arm of the cream couch.   
“You really think I don’t know when your lyin’?” he said rhetorically. Jackson rubbed the back of his neck, trying to piece his words.  
“Well, how do you feel about tattoos?” He asked cautiously.   
Valentine shrugged his shoulders. Inwardly, he was surprised. Jackson had repeatedly told him how much he disliked the tattoo on his back. Personally, he thought that Jackson had been trying to hide the fact that he secretly loved it, but had never said anything at the risk of a fight. He would choose his battles wisely. But he had never thought that Jackson, not Holt, but Jackson, would go get one. Well, at least while he was sober. He wasn’t even sure if the half monster even drank.  
“I like them well enough. I have a limit, but I like viewing them, in general.” He got the road that Jackson was going with this, but to what end.   
Okay, that was good. He didn’t hate them, but he didn’t positively love them. That meant it could go good or bad. He prayed it was good. Really good. Because it would be a pain to get this removed. Or try finding a ring that would cover it up.  
“What’s it of?” Valentine asked, curiosity burning.   
Jackson smiled, not quite look at him. He peeled the band aid off, hiding it from his lover.  
“A permanent expression of a breakable wish.” He whispered, holding out his hand.   
Right there, on his ring finger, was newly done ink, the skin still red and puffy. In curling calligraphy were the name Je’Taime, accented by vines curling over the sides of his finger. Valentine pressed the hand up, looking at the underside. A bright red rose, detailed even in such a small space, was dead center in the bottom of his finger. Valentine was speechless. He gingerly traced over the designs, feeling the hand in his shake slightly. He looked up. Jackson had his eyes clenched shut, afraid to look. He looked back down.  
Jackson had the courage to have his name, his last name, inked into his skin, like a wedding band. ‘A permanent expression of a breakable wish’. He felt Jackson try to take his hand back, rambling at some point in his thoughts. Valentine refused to let go.  
“-know we’ve only been together for 3 years, but I felt that, maybe, well, look, I know it’s stupid, but…” he trailed off, feeling himself being pulled forward. He leant down, confusion in his eyes. He couldn’t read Valentine, but that wasn’t so unusual. There were still moments he couldn’t read the vampire.   
Eventually, he was lying on top of the larger male, he’s cheeks bright red. 3 years, and he still wasn’t used to that look. Valentine rubbed the mark gently, lips ghosting over it. Jackson gulped.  
“Do you really want to know what I think?” he murmured lowly. Jackson didn’t say anything as lips meet his, dragging him further down. And further he fell.  
Valentine didn’t say anything, but peck his lips again, lingering on his aorta. He withheld the impulse to bite, instead nibbling and sucking and licking, and he loved it when Jackson made that sound. He nibbled higher, right on the earlobe, biting lightly on the ear rim. Yeah, that was the one. He trailed his nose like a pointer on a map, kissing his lips. He sucked on them lightly, demanding entrance. Jackson opened willingly, tongue in first. Valentine smiled lightly, prodding in familiar territory. Goth, he would never tire of this. Never. Jackson scraped his tongue down one fang, remembering their sensitivity. Valentine felt his grip tighten around that dark hair, but Jackson only groaned. Someone shifted, getting more comfortable. Perfectly aligned. He pulled back, Jackson hazily moving forwards still, trying to find him. Oh, He wanted to dive right back in. But if they were gonna go that far, it would be in the shared bedroom that Valentine hadn’t exactly told him about. And he also had something to say.   
“That’s what I think. Also…” he pecked those lips again, swollen and bright from their kisses. “Your gonna have ta show me where you got it done.”   
Jackson titled his head, as if to ask why.  
“So I can go get the matching pair.” He murmured. Jackson sat up slightly, a thoughtful expression on his face.   
“Tomorrow.” He said, grinning as he pinned the vampire deeper, diving back into his mouth.   
Tomorrow was definitely the better option.


	8. Blooddrops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson has developed a new type of candy for his favorite vampires, Valentine, Bram and Gory. But did everything go according to plan? Or did Jackson royally screw up Valentine's day?   
> (Actually ended up making a more detailed spin off of this drabble)

They were sitting on a couch at the Coffin bean on what Jackson would hesitantly, although stutteringly say, could quite possibly be a date. . He had been hinting at this for months, in his own little way, and now that he had it, this vampire’s company, he was fascinated and terrified all at once. 

Everyone had tried to talk him out of being friends with Valentine. The vampire that had nearly ruined Draculuara’s sweet 1600. Now that he was sort of kind of dating him, a few had even stopped talking to him, but that was another story. He could see a different Valentine, underneath all that posh and romance. In his opinion, Valentine was naturally interesting beneath that rosy exterior, and so was the vampire lifestyle. 

“So, you really can’t taste anything?” he asked reaching for the apple that he had ordered along with his caramel frappe. Valentine shook his head.

“Not exactly. Blood types hav’ different tastes, that why certain vampire’s prefer over others. But normal foods jus’ tastes like ash. It’s why we prefer the blood warm, if you don’t mind my saying so.” He said, drinking out of a Styrofoam cup. Jackson rubbed his neck nervously but shrugged his shoulders. He was used to comments, talking to Bram, Gory, and Valentine. He would rather know than not know. Jackson rolled the apple between his hands, a guilty feeling in his stomach. Why should he eat when Valentine couldn’t?   
“That sucks…” he muttered. He looked up to see Valentine’s bittersweet smile. 

Go ahead Darlin’, you need to eat. Besides,” he paused eyeing the bright green orb in front of him. “You don’t know what I would kill to be able to taste one of those again.” He whispered. A sad nostalgia dimmed his eyes, but there was something there, something seductive, as he leaned forward and took a bite of the apple, straight from Jackson’s hands, enjoying the blush spreading across his cheeks. It had been like this for weeks, Valentine’s flirtatious advances, and Jackson’s stuttering shyness. But Jackson felt particularly bold that day. Ever since he had learned how to avoid Manny, really avoid him, it had given time for his old self confidence to build. 

Before he could hesitate, he grabbed the pinkish hands before him, tugging the vampire closer, never breaking eye contact. He could see the outline of wide pale pink eyes underneath those shades. But he wanted to see Valentine, and he was not letting those shades get in the way. Valentine tensed as Jackson removed his shades, but didn’t stop him. 

They really were such a gorgeous shade of pink. Like the kind you find in rare paintings done by artist a hundred years ago. 

“You sure, Darlin’?” He didn’t plan to just take the heart and go this time. No, he wanted this one to be his, unbroken and beautiful. Jackson gave no answer but to lean forward.  
If he thought that Frankie electrocuted him, it was absolutely nothing to the inferno that Valentine could elicit. 

2 years later

Gory clicked through the halls of Monster high, rolling her eyes good naturedly at the frill and lace covering the halls and classrooms, smirking at all the monsters. Even though they knew who came up with the holiday, they still celebrated. A pair of doves flew overhead, delivering Valentines to a group of single monsters. He had certainly outdone himself this year. Maybe that was because he had extra incentive. Jackson had really turned him around. Not that she was complaining about the self proclaimed holiday, no. She liked the Morning lilies that Bram always got her. Morning lilies were still her favorites, despite her change.   
Bram had already told her that he had come early and wouldn’t be able to meet her, something about a test to make up. So she went straight to her locker.   
She smiled at the little letter on her locker, a simple card from Valentine that he had made himself, wishing her and Bram a good time. It was few of words, with a touch of calligraphy, but he knew that she enjoyed the skill and detail of the art. She wasn’t really into over the top displays anymore. 

She opened her locker, seeing a few boxes of Blood drops from the fear-leading girls. Blood drops were little solid packs of Blood that you could pop into your mouth and eat. The equivalent of chocolates she supposed. 

But then there was a single little box that caught her attention, not the store bought kind. It was a folded origami box, her name written in neat scrawl. She would recognize that handwriting anywhere. Jackson. Her fangs glinted as she gave a wider smile, carefully opening the letter that had been taped to the top. From the creases she could tell that it had been written a long time ago. 

To Gory, My Beloved Friend,   
I just wanted to say that you’re one of the best woman I have ever had the privilege of knowing. I don’t know if you realize this, but you and Bram have saved me, and not just from Manny, and some of the others bullies. I won’t go into it to heavily, but…I honestly don’t know if I would still be here, if you hadn’t had come in when you had. You’ve always been the older sister that I needed, always been there for me, even when I know that my humanity was something that was difficult to work with. You’ve stayed where others would have run, and I just, well, I…I love you. I know it’s kind of sappy, and maybe a little sad, but I wanted you to know. And it’s the truth, right? I know how much you appreciate the truth. Here is mine. Well, Happy Valentine’s day.   
Your friend,  
Jackson Jekyll 

Jackson had thought about killing himself? She shuddered at the thought, but couldn’t help but smile at the rest of the letter. To be loved by someone as fragile as Jackson, who didn’t say those words often; it had her eye ducts bleed. She wished the boy would have more confidence in himself. He was brilliant, more kind and human than anyone she had ever met. She had offered, jokingly, to change him, when she had learned of his plight, being the only ‘normie’ at an all monster school. She grew to respect because of that, however, and brought him into her little circle. She had had her doubts, but she had never regretted it since. She traced her fingers over the beginning. She had been a big sister, once, when she was still alive. A hazy image of a brown haired boy, a small wooden horse in a cabin. To be called that again was a precious gift like no other. She carefully placed her newfound treasure in a secure pocket in her purse, opening the heart shaped box. They were little homemade blood droplets! The homemade ones were always a better than the store bought ones. But they were slightly off. They had a coating around their crimson shapes, and some sort of center that was practically bulging. Also, where there would usually be 12, there were only 7. Barely anyone did it the old fashioned way these days, not even here, among other vampires. She wondered where he got the recipe to even make these. Probably from Lady Je’taime, Valentine’s mother. It took a lot of guts to handle blood and make these on his own. She popped one into her mouth, sucking on it slightly. It they hadn’t come out right, she could always wash it down with some of the store bought ones, but she liked the homemade ones best.

Her fangs pierced that strange center and she choked, a single strand of blood rolling down her cheek.   
.  
Bram had literally crammed all the Valentine’s from his locker in his bag. The important ones were always hand-given so he wasn’t too worried about offending anyone. Well, except for one box. This box had Jackson’s handwriting; he carefully carried this one in his hand. It had been in his locker, and the only one he had saved from a crammed mess. The little human was special to him. Though he would have never guessed it, first coming to Monster High.

Bram had found him, about a year and a half ago, trying to hide a black eye with his bangs in the boy’s bathroom, a present from Manny. He remembered his own school days as a human, hundreds of years ago. He had been a victim in more ways than one those days. It wasn’t easy, being a ‘dirty black hair’ in a school full of blonde- slim Europeans. Granted, Valentine had come in and saved him, bringing more dark haired people into the school. But that had taken years. Bram could definitely relate to Jackson’s situation a lot more than the normie would ever know. But he had given the normie his advice, showing him how to use his bangs to hide the evidence. He had even pierced the mark a little, deadening the pain, using his venom to lower the swelling. Somehow, they ended up meeting in the library, and talking more. They just…clicked somehow. The fact that Gory adored him might have helped. 

He carefully looked over the box, admiring the skill and clean folding lines. He was going to have to ask how Jackson did that. It was pretty cool. There was a note on the top that tugged on his heartstrings. He had never known how much he meant to the little human. The promise that he would keep his humanity, despite the difficulties that came with being a human in a Monster based society was relieving. Vampirism took the life out of you in more ways than one, and if Jackson ever lost his spark, well, he didn’t want to know that would have become of him. 

He sat down and opened the box, staring at the little blood drops curiously. There were only seven, coated with something and a bright golden center staring back at him like an eyeball. Definitely not the traditional. He knew that Jackson had asked the recipe from Valentine’s mother, but definitely deviated from the original design.

He sucked on one for a minute, but it didn’t taste any different. Deciding it was okay, he bit down.

His stomach dropped. For a single second his heart jumped. A full beat.  
.   
Jackson fidgeted nervously in his seat, trying to keep himself from tapping his fingers. He had dropped all of the boxes off in their lockers that morning. Despite being so close to all three of the vampires, he couldn’t deliver them in person. He just couldn’t. He had this down to a plan however, the reason he couldn’t see their reactions quite yet.

If they didn’t like them, he wouldn’t ruin the rest of their day and rewrite the ‘chocolates’ recipe. If they did, then all the worrying was for nothing and he was fine. But there was always that option. 

He glanced at the clock as the last second tardies struggled in, some with lipstick on cheeks and collars. His heart dropped a little, wishing that Valentine was there to hold his hand, even if it was under the table. They still struggled with intimacy, mostly him with the emotional aspect of someone actually caring more about him than Holt, but Valentine understood that. He was so patient. It was just another aspect that he loved about him. 

He glanced at the bag near his desk. Sure, he had gotten some candies; Holt got more of course, from Frankie and few others ghouls. Deuce had even made him a sushi special which was awesome because he had forgotten his lunch today. But the ones he wanted, the smiles, hopefully, had yet to come. 

The bell rang and Jackson submitted himself to a class of not knowing and tapping fingers. Mr. Hackington went up to the class, about to speak, when the door knocked politely. He grumblingly opened the door.  
“What do ya need?” he asked gruffly.

“I need to see Jackson please.” A soft voice asked. He had gotten up at the sound of his name, curiously trying to see past the larger man. He rushed towards the door after seeing the person at the door, disbelief on his face. That little voice was Gory? Her wet eyes begged him forward, and without question, he enfolded her into his arms. Mr. Hackington closed the door, giving them some privacy from prying eyes. 

“Oh, Gory…” He said, “I didn’t mean to make you cry! I’m so sorry.” Her petite shoulders shook, and his spirits fell. “I’ll take them back. I’m so sorry.” He didn’t think that he had gotten the recipe so wrong. The formula was solid.

“No!” she exclaimed, squeezing tighter. “Honey I haven’t tasted cherries in 274 years….” She shook her head. “They taste just fine.” He rubbed her back comfortingly. They worked? So these were happy tears? He guessed she was happy, but this wasn’t what he had been hoping for. He held her for a few more minutes when he felt her lean against her tiptoes, kissing his neck. He remembered what they had told him about this act, a kiss on the neck. He felt a few happy tears of his own. 

There was a screech, something crashing into them both. A pinkish trail of blood slid down his forehead from the taller male, tipping his nose. Why was Bram so tall? Wait, Bram! 

“Bram, why are you crying?” he was only squeezed tighter, tears going faster. 

“279…” a rough voice said. The last time Bram had tasted lemonade. They stayed in the Hallway, wrapped in a three way hug. 

“I meant to make you guys happy, not make you bawl into tears.” They both pulled away, trying to wipe away their blood tears. They glanced guiltily at Jackson’s face, seeing their tears on his shoulder and head. 

“We are happy, that’s why were crying. You’ve given a gift we haven’t had been able to have in over two millennium.” Bram beamed at him, rolling his eyes good naturedly when Jackson ducked his shyly. Gory forced their eyes to meet.

“You have given us a miracle today. We’re just...how?” she asked. He rubbed his neck nervously, smearing the blood. This was the part where most people tuned out. The science of it all. 

“Well, I just thought that it would make a good Valentine’s Day present. So I took the recipe, broke it down to its chemical components, and experimented with it till I got it right. Well, what I thought was right. I couldn’t exactly taste them…” He rubbed at the notebook in his bag where all of his notes were held. Jackson didn’t dare mention he did this last minute, specifically in 3 days, with no sleep, beating Holt’s record of most drank energy drinks, and Gory’s personal record of coffee consumed in one day. He was so tired. Maybe it was worth it. Their fanged smiles were completely worth it. It worked. He breathed out a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he had been holding. And then his breath hitched. 

“Have you heard from…?” Valentine. His boofriend. He hadn’t even texted him this morning. 

“He’s still setting up for the Dance tonight. He probably hasn’t checked his locker yet. Probably won’t until close to lunch time.” 

Well, salts. That’s just great. His panic rose again. 

“Don’t worry; he is going to love them, whatever flavor they might be.” He paused, taking a look at Jackson’s face. The best way to get the panic down was to distract him. He glanced at Gory, who was lovingly stroking the little box. 

“Jackson? I know this is going to sound incredibly selfish, but forgive my curiosity. Is there any way to make more? My Maker…” 

Jackson gave her a sad smile.

“I wish I could Gory, but I spent everything I had figuring the formula out and making the droplets your holding. I would need funding if I wanted to make more, to create new flavors. But I just don’t have it.” She hummed thoughtfully. Bram developed an idea, sharing a look with Gory. He looked sheepishly at the little half monster’s face. 

“Jackson, why don’t we clean you up before you get to class? I’m afraid our tears are…a bit colored.” He said as he led him away. But not before slipping the notebook into Gory’s waiting hands. They disappeared down the hall, and she pulled out her ICoffin, and proceeded to take many, many pictures. 

Eventually Mr. Hackington had dragged him back into his classroom, but didn’t count him tardy. He was a bit of a favorite, and usually stayed after school for tutoring, so he got to slide this time. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face the entire day. They were happy. The Blood drops worked! But as lunch drew closer, his anxiety rose as well. What if Valentine’s batch was the only batch that didn’t work? What if it wasn’t the flavor he wanted? What if the flavors were all wrong? What if he completely screwed up this Valentine’s Day for the man that created the flipping holiday? The bell rang for lunch suddenly, shrieking through the room. He nearly fell out of his chair, and more than a few people chuckled. 

“Dude, you okay?” Deuce asked, even though Cleo was practically dragging him throughout the door. 

“Yea, Yea, I’m good.” He said, collecting his thoughts. Oh salts, NO, no, it was fine. It was all going to be fine. Right? Of course. Of course…ohsalts. He trudged through the hall, avoiding the bigger monsters, sticking a little closer to the zombie crowd. He normally did, and today was no exception. There was a sound of squealing ahead, but he was too short to see what it was. 

All of a sudden, he was crashed into, caught from falling, but enfolded in a bone crushing hug. He saw a flash of rose studded sleeves and gasped breathlessly.

“Valentine?!”

The hug loosened around him, the pressure around his ribs lessening. Jackson tentatively hugged him back. Valentine had never acted like this before.   
“Oh, Darlin’” Valentine whispered, the southern accent broken and gone. He had never sounded so…vulnerable. He shuddered in his arms, this boy, this little human, was going to be the death of him. Valentine kissed him, more tender than he had ever before in the whole year they had been dating. He never heard the cat calls and jeers from the crowd. Jackson felt his knees buckle underneath him, but Valentine held him up. He only smiled softly when he saw his little half-monster’s face turn bright red. 

“I’m guessing they worked?” he sputtered.

“How did…Apples! How…How did you know I…” and he kissed him again. But this time, it was right on the Aorta of his throat. It sent chills up his spine. He remembered, once, that Gory told him that if a Vampire ever kissed another there, with no intention to bite, it meant an unbreakable bond was forged. Either by a sister, or brother, or family bond. But he recognized this one. It was that between lovers. He beamed in the coat, face flushed. 

“So…not bad? For a first time Valentine?”

After all he had never been with anyone on Valentine’s Day.   
This kiss was so worth all the worry of the day. 

The next day

Jackson practically floated to his first period. He was still on cloud nine. Valentine and himself had stayed at his place, a large apartment, with an amazing study, he might add, and ate homemade pasta and blood wine, in the Vampire’s case. They had talked all night about nothing at all, stargazing on the roof, and naming constellations. He knew that it wasn’t the typical romantic date that Valentine usually did. Usually it was fancy restaurants, flying doves with little banners, things like that. But Jackson believed that Valentine had learned that he didn’t need over the top shows of affection. The little things were more than plenty. I mean, sure, they were a little upset to learn that the Blood drops wouldn’t last. The coating allowed them to last two weeks, at best, like a normal box of chocolates. But it was the best he could come up with in such a small amount of time. Besides, seeing the pleasure on Valentine’s face every time he took a bite was totally worth it. 

The bell rang and everyone started pulling their stuff up from their bags. They still had work to do, but that was always how it was in Mr. Hackington’s class. Jackson tucked his memories of last night away in a special place where he was sure Holt couldn’t reach, and focused. It was time to get busy. 

A small knock interrupted the lecture that was about to start. Mr. Hackington opened the door to see a small green freshmeatman. Must be a messenger from the Counseling office. Mr. Hackington looked at him exasperated, like he was getting popular all of a sudden. 

“Jackson, your wanted in the office. Hop to it’, pack ‘er fings.” Mr. Hackington said roughly. They’re were looks of confusion passed around. Why would Jackson be called to the office? Was he in trouble? He quietly gathered his things, walking to the door. Maybe Headmistress Bloodgood had to talk to Holt? That would make more since, but somebody usually told him if Holt did something that might get him landed in the office. But there wasn’t anything recently.

He walked straight into Headmistress Bloodgood’s office, immediately receiving a nuzzle from the blue stallion. Ever since the ‘graffiti’ they did of the noble beast, they had been nuzzled and petted, and in a few cases, followed, by the stallion. He couldn’t honestly say that he minded. He chuckled, petting the muzzle. 

“You wanted to see me, Mrs. Bloodgood?” Jackson asked politely. She led the horse away, only half chiding him.

“Yes, these Gentlemen wished to see you.” 

Jackson turned ashen white as he turned towards the group, fingers clutching the doorframe.

Oh salts. 

A group of Vampires lounged in a sort of waiting room in her office, dressed in the finest tailored suits that Jackson had ever seen. 

Wait, he knew these faces. 

The white hiared gentlemen with circled glasses. Dr. Bloodburn. Beside him was Dr. Aortaian. And the one with red hair, Dr. Vess’el! And was that Dr. Bleedman? Bram had pointed all of these vampires out in a photo he had seen in his families ‘living’ room. These were all respected and highly educated Scientist in the Vampire Council. 

One of them, this one not a scientist, but still a very intimidating vampire, walked up to him, holding out a porcelain hand.

“Dr. Jekyll?” The vampire had a slight Italian accent. “My name is Gorette Fangtell. I’ve heard quite a bit about you. We are here-” he gestured to the other vampires, “-to talk about your flavored Blooddrops.”   
Jackson absently took the hand, shaking barely.

“Umm…could you excuse me a moment?” he asked, and then proceeded to sprint down the hallway, crashing into the lockers. 

Mr. Fangtell chuckled. The boy was just as shy as Gory had said he was. 

“I don’t think he was ready for us.” He said. 

Gory glanced at the clock, glancing at the uptight Librarian. She wanted to call her Maker; did he even get her messages? Fang knows that the man could go days without checking his messages. But this was important!

All of a sudden the doors burst open. Jackson stood there, hair dishelved, and shirt completely untucked. A hot mess if she ever did see one. He stormed up to her, jerking a seat open. 

“Gory! Who in the nine gates of Hel did you call?!” She only smiled in shocked amazement. She had never heard him cuss, nor practically yell in a library. She felt Bram come up behind her, leaning against the chair. 

“Gory!” 

“Okay, Okay,” She said, coming clean. “I took pictures of your notes and sent them to my Maker, who told a few friends. He did introduce himself, correct?” 

“Yes, he introduced himself. You two practically have the same name.” 

“Tradition.” She interrupted before he could continue. “Anyway, apparently, he loved the idea, and so did a few of the council members.” She glanced at the clock. “I never imagined that they would get here so soon. Either way, you said that you needed funding? You got it.” 

There was silence as Jackson tried to absorb everything. 

“Gory… I can’t. I…I….I don’t have anything. No papers, no essays, nothing to prove my theory correct, no long term or short term effects, if there are even any, of ingesting the blooddrops at all. Nothing. I have nothing.” He uttered. He slumped down the door fame, panic spreading numbingly. 

A strong set of arms steadied him. Bram. Had Bram always been there? He couldn’t really remember. He looked up into the calm vampire’s face. 

“Jackson.” There was a long pause as he struggled to breathe. Finally, he was able to get a word out.

“Yes?” 

“I know every single one of those vampires in that room. They do not care for the official way of doing things. They don’t care for ‘procedure’ for getting funding. They don’t care for essays or papers. They care about results. They recognize that the world needs change. Advancements. They recognize the opportunity you’re presenting to them.” He stopped to let that sink in. Jackson’s breathing was calming. It was working, he was calming down. If his heartbeat had risen any higher, he might have fainted. Close to a heart attack. He was going to have to talk to Gory about these kinds of surprises. “They are just here to see your work, any ideas you may have. To see the person you are and if can be trusted with large amounts of money.” He smirked a bit. “After all, you are a teenager.” Jackson laughed at that. Gory came to crouch beside them, smiling too. She felt slightly guilty, but she knew that all of this would be worth it. 

“I want you guys with me.” He whispered. 

“Or course.” Gory said, both of them helping the little half-monster up from the seat.

“And Valentine.” 

“Already texted him.” Gory said, waving her phone. “Now, let’s go.” she said. She hooked her arm around his elbow. She used the emergency number, so he was sure to answer. Normally she wouldn’t, but she knew that Valentine wanted to be here. 

They walked back to the office, and were then redirected to the boardroom. There was a window above to which he could see the vampires again. Their reputations alone were enough to make his hands clench. 

“Oh, salts.” He muttered. Jackson nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand dropped on his waist. He twisted to see the red and black vampire. 

“Valentine!” 

“I’m sorry darlin’.” He said, rubbing his back in apology. His pink eyes glanced in through the window. “Oh, Dr. Bleedman is here. Haven’t seen him in awhile…” He slipped his hand in Jackson’s giving a reassuring squeeze. Jackson’s heart rate was higher than he would like, but he couldn’t do much about that now. “Ya ready?” 

Jackson said nothing but push open the door. The vampires inside smirked at Jackson’s face but still curious. Mr. Fangtell stood, hugging his ‘daughter’. 

“Ah, there was no need to be scared Dr. Jekyll. We wouldn’t have bit you.” 

“Hard.” Someone added, a general laugh was spread through the group, but Gory and the others didn’t. Jackson tried to smile nervously, but he couldn’t deny that he felt safer when Valentine’s hand tightened on his. They sat down on the other side, Bram and Valentine on either side of him. He was so glad that they came. 

Mr. Fangtell sat down, folding his hands together. “Like I said Dr. Jekyll, were here to talk about your blood droplets. Tell us why you made them.” Okay, so kidding around with this particular scientist wasn’t the way to loosen him. Maybe getting straight to business was. 

“Um, please, just call me Jackson. Dr. Jekyll was my fourth great grandfather.” Okay, so maybe he wasn’t a regular egotistical scientist. He just might like this kid. “Um, okay, why I made them?” It wasn’t the question he was expecting, but maybe they worked differently in the Vampire Council. 

“Well…Weeks ago, I asked Bram why some Vampires could still eat foods, as long as they were mixed with some type of blood beverage. He said that they really couldn’t, that the food still tasted like ash. They did it for appearance.” He was slowly gaining confidence as he went, sitting taller in his chair. “I didn’t think that it was fair. I just looked into some formulas, maybe something I could do. So, I asked the recipe from Mrs. - I mean Countess Je’taime – showed me the recipe for Blooddrops. Like Chocolates for humans. It was a simple formula, something I could rework, or even rewrite.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Bram and Gory and Valentine, they’ve given me a lot. More than they will ever know. I wanted to give something back, something that would somehow equal what they had given me. So I thought to bring back what they haven’t been able to taste in over hundred years. Some longer.” Valentine rubbed his knuckles affectionately, and Gory’s eyes promised a proper hug later. And he couldn’t see Bram, but the small smile was more than enough. He hadn’t had meant to go that far, especially with such distinguished Vampires, but he just kept going. 

Mr. Fangtell smothered his smile, continuing in a serious voice. “How?”

Jackson looked around. These were scientist. Honest to Goodness scientist. They were interested in how it really happened, not just a summary. They wanted all the details. Every little detail. They would listen. Be honest to goodness interested. And he could at least give what he could. He pulled out his notebook, feeling slightly embarrassed about its appearance. It wasn’t a Journal like he’s fourth great grandfather’s books that he loved to read, but it would have to do. He explained the best he could, most of his work being verbal. But he went through the process, the theory, experimentation. He was happy, she realized. Somebody was listening to his whole spill and not being bored or lectured. He didn’t get that here at a high school. But her maker was clearly very impressed.

“That’s quite impressive Jackson. Is there any other ideas you’d like to share with us?” Mr. Fangtell was excited for the first time in years. Finally, fresh blood, bursting with innovation! He just needed one more push to pull the other council members in. And he could tell the teenager had impressed the scientific board. They were leaning on the tables, closer to him, tilting their heads, clearly interested. Oh, he had them, little Jackson was a shoe in. He just needed one more thing, one more push to drive them in. 

Jackson looked down clearly in thought. He was more confident now than before. And then he looked up, holding his eye, a serious look on his face. 

“I don’t know what’s appropriate in your…culture,” he stated, confident in that statement. “So if I am overstepping my bounds, please tell me now, and I’ll shut up.” He pulled his satchel back out, pulling out another notebook, this one a bright yellow color. A yin yang symbol had been sharpied on the cover in a perfect circle. He thumbed through the pages. He finally came to the one he needed, and slid it across the table. Gorret couldn’t believe his eyes. The diagrams….these notes, the boy couldn’t have figured it out. It wasn’t possible. 

“Synthetic Blood.”


End file.
